Prom Is Wrong
by Hisa-Ai
Summary: How bad could Prom night actually be for Nick when it's not even HIS Prom that he's attending? So he gets his flask taken away, and dances to Cotton Eye Joe and consoles a crying teenager. It can't be THAT bad... Right? Ness. MayaLala's prom prompt at last.


**So this here is my entry for MayaLala's little "contest" if you will. She double-dog dared us, guys. And I cannot resist a dare, so bam, this is what you get. **

**I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to enter this, because Friday a power-line near where I live went down and we were consequentially without power for a little while there, and of course my laptop wasn't charged all the way at the time, so I couldn't use him much. Yes, I said him. My laptop is a guy and his name is Hatsuharu but I call him Haru for short unless I'm pissed off at him, in which case yeah, he's Hatsuharu. But, um... where was I? Anyway, they got it all fixed so I am back at last and just in time to get this posted. Yay!**

**This is a a bit late, I know, but I'm never up at the ungodly hour this was supposed to be posted at, – plus I'm really into Digimon again right now and have spent most of my free time writing a fic that will probably never see the light of day and scouring the internet for really awesome Takari fics because the fact that those two were not canon is a crime that should be punishable _by law!_ Also, why would they stick Sora with Matt? Like, no, seriously, I have shipped Tai and Sora since about forever. How the hell can they _not_ be canon?! But, ah, I digress – so I'm submitting it now instead. Hope you guys don't mind too much!**

**Also, this takes place sometime after Cece's not-wedding. Nick and Jess are a couple now, but I'm not quite sure how long they've been together, so just come up with a number that you're comfortable with.**

**Anyway... Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own New Girl, "Cotton-Eye Joe," and I certainly don't own Prom. How would that even work? How would you... _own_ prom? I think I'm trying too hard to be funny now; I'm running out of ways to make these disclaimers humorous, guys...

* * *

**Fic:**

How the hell Jess had managed to drag him into this, Nick didn't know, but he was _not_ happy about it, he thought to himself as he fixied his bowtie in the bathroom mirror with a scowl on his face.

The last prom he'd been at – his own prom – had been a disaster, and he was in no hurry to relive even a second of it, thank you very much. The band had sucked, someone had spiked the punch – this bit he wouldn't have minded so much had someone told him about it beforehand so he didn't go over-board with it and make a complete ass of himself – he had thrown up all over his date's dress, and then she had then proceeded to slap and dump him on the spot, then went on to hook up with his arch-nemesis and fool around with him in the back of _Nick's_ borrowed car for the night. He was sure a plethora of other unfortunate things had happened that night as well, but he had thankfully managed to block most of it out.

No, he was not looking forward to stepping into that hotel ballroom and celebrating the hell that was prom with a bunch of high-school Seniors who were so bright eyed and optimistic that it made him want to puke.

With any luck, the punch would be spiked. Surely that tradition had held over all the years...

"Nick, are you ready yet or what? We can't be late – we're _chaperones, _Miller! Let's go!" Jess called, clicking into the bathroom in her god-awful heels. He met her face in the mirror as she rested a hand on his shoulder. She looked gorgeous, of course, in her floor length blue, almost prom-style dress. Almost because it was only _almost_, not quite. She was only chaperoning, not attending, so she had to be appropriate, she had insisted.

She was holding a clutch to match and fixing her hair-spray stiff hair as she looked over his shoulder at the mirror, waiting for him to make a move, suggest that he was ready in any sense of the word.

But he wasn't.

He didn't want to go, damnit! He had hated prom and all its stupid chaperones when he was at his own – why the hell did anyone think he wanted anything to do with anyone else's prom? And why the hell was Jess chaperoning a prom anyway? She taught at a middle school – last he checked they didn't have proms!

She had probably explained it to him in the same breath that she had convinced him to do this with her, but he was also sure she was at least partially naked when that had happened, so he didn't remember it.

At.

All.

"Ready, Nick?" she asked, letting her hands fall from her head at last.

"No." he deadpanned, his frown still in place and getting deeper by the moment.

"Too bad. Now let's go, Miller." She reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from the mirror and closer towards what he suspected would be the second worst prom night of his life.

_Fantastic_.

~!~!~!~!

"You must be Miss Day! I'm so glad you could be here! We were running short on hands willing to help out and watch the kids – so many of the teachers working here are younger and remember their own proms like they were yesterday and aren't too willing to be one of the chaperones who cramps everyone's style, you know," Some woman, presumably a teacher or principal or something as far as Nick knew, gushed when she saw Jess. She was probably in her mid- to late- thirties, with blonde hair styled up and pinned back in a professional sort of way, and was wrapped up in a tight black dress that he was sure she would give some poor girl hell for wearing if one of the students had dared to done it on this night. She was going _on and on_ about rules and teachers and what was allowed and what wasn't allowed, what they were to do if a student did this or that or they caught someone with this or that...

Yep, he was a narc now. Might as well get used to it.

"So this is your back-up?" she teased, gesturing towards Nick. Jess nodded enthusiastically, a hand coming around to rest on Nick's chest. He reacted instinctively, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her closer at her touch.

"Yep. Mr. Nick Miller, chaperone extraordinaire."

"He doesn't seem too thrilled to be here," she mused, eyes shining cattily at their closeness. Nick pursed his lips, biting back the remark on his tongue. She seemed a bit _too_ thrilled to be there if you asked him. Too plastic and thrilled. What was she up to?

"Nick never really liked prom, but he agreed to do this for me," Jess nodded. The woman nodded in understanding and started talking about some nonsense Nick didn't really want to hear. All he wanted to do was get inside, watch the brats dance, get drunk, feel each other up, and get the hell out of there before anything bad could happen to him. And then he wanted to go home and drown the memories in some beer and maybe a bit of Jack Daniels if he had any around...

"Let's go, Nick," Jess tugged on his arm as the woman walked off. She grabbed his hand and started to pull him inside, but he stalled, dragging his feet nervously. Jess looked at him quizzically, about to remind him that to _chaperone_ prom they actually had to be _at_ prom, not standing outside of it.

"I... er... here." he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a beautiful blue corsage still wrapped up in its plastic box. It hadn't been his idea, of course, just something Schmidt had suggested the day before. Nick had waved him off, they were _chaperoning_, not _attending_. But Schmidt had insisted, "She'll love it, Nicholas._ Love. It._" he had insisted, and had even gone as far as to go with Nick to pick it out to make sure he didn't pick some fugly little thing that would make Jess want to murder him for suggesting it in the first place. They had walked away with the blue one he was presenting Jess with, leaving both men extremely satisfied.

Jess took the box with a giggle and opened it up, gesturing for Nick to take the box while she slipped it onto her wrist. She smiled at him, and he once again had to make a note to thank Schmidt for the suggestion. Why did it always seem that all the ideas that helped move their relationship along belonged to Schmidt? Sometimes it felt like the only reason Nick was having sex was because of Schmidt, and he didn't like to have that visual inside his head, thank you very much.

"It's perfect, Nick," she cooed as she leaned up to kiss him, seeing a shadow of a doubt in his eyes. Despite himself, he smiled back and held out his arm for her to take as they walked in. Maybe this prom night wouldn't be as bad as he thought it would be...

~!~!~!~!

Nope, he was wrong; Prom night sucked no matter how old you were or whose prom it actually was.

After walking inside and meeting all the other chaperones and having to hear all the rules _again_ – not that Nick listened any better the second time around, but whatever; he was sure Jess would let him know if any of the kids were doing something they shouldn't have been – they had walked around the hotel ballroom and took in the decorations. It was what was to be expected: streamers and balloons, tables filled with finger-foods, paper plates, napkins, bottles of water, a punch bowl with empty cups nearby, a DJ table with the DJ getting all set up... It was just a typical Prom setting, minus the annoying teenagers thus far. But they would be arriving soon, he was warned. Oh would they be arriving _soon_.

At six o'clock exactly, the first of the students started arriving.

It wasn't too bad, just some giggling girls dressed in frilly dresses that sparkled and ended too short for girls that age to be wearing but just long enough to be allowed and their smiling dates who were probably thinking about getting them out of their dresses and upstairs to one of the rooms they had no doubt rented for the night. They all had their make-up and hair done up and were walking in heels Nick was sure were painful. But it wasn't too bad. They talked, drank some water, and waited for the music to start playing and their peers to arrive. Nick could handle this.

But, of course, by six-fifteen, the room was filled to the brim with chattering students on the edges, mingling just inches away from where Nick had been stationed to make sure nobody spiked the punch bowl – not a wise decision considering he didn't give two shits if they all got drunk off their asses. Actually, it might make the whole night that much more entertaining, if he weren't afraid of Jess castrating him if she found out it happened on his watch.

The dance floor was filled with students doing all sorts of inappropriate things before a chaperone approached them and reprimanded them for it and they stopped, only to do it again once they were out of sight.

The DJ was playing the sort of music that made Nick change the station when it came on in the car, the kind that made him curse modern music and all artists who dared to create it. The kind that had a catchy beat and made him hate himself when he caught himself tapping his foot to the beat.

By seven-thirty, the kids were all still laughing and dancing and talking and having fun. They were drinking water and punch and eating the food, and so far no one had tried to spike the punch. He was a bit disappointed, actually; he had hoped someone would at least _try_ to do it so he could see if he would actually stop them or not. But so far, no one had even attempted.

"You look like you could use a break." Jess appeared at his side at last. She had spent the last hour and a half making rounds, talking to other chaperones and even mingling with a few of the students who had come stag. Somehow, she was managing to have fun and it wasn't even _her_ prom! But that was just Jess, he supposed. Making the best of everything.

"This is _hell_, Jess." he mumbled, gesturing around the room with one hand. He had tucked a flask inside his jacket just before he'd left his room that night, but he couldn't quite recall if there was anything in it and didn't want to pull it out to take a drink only to find it was empty. He didn't know if he could take the heartbreak.

"It's not that bad," she told him, reaching up to fix his bowtie.

"Yes it is, _Jessica_. I'm afraid I might die of boredom!" he whined dramatically as she took his hand. She reached up to give him a quick kiss, careful not to smear her lipstick in the process.

"How about a dance?" she asked him finally, revealing her reason for approaching him.

"How about you shoot me now and get it over with?"

"Don't be such a _baby_. I asked the DJ to play a slow song after this, and then... A _special_ song just for you." she told him coyly. Nick rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. Dancing with Jess had to be more thrilling than just standing and guarding the punch bowl. As soon as the slow song started to play, he agreed, he would dance with her.

Seconds later, the DJ made an announcement that the next song was for couples only, "So grab your sweetheart and get out on the floor," he told them in his smooth voice.

Jess grabbed Nick's arm with a smile and pulled him out to the dance floor. He felt rather ridiculous, to tell the truth, his hands on Jess' waist, her hands on his shoulders, swaying back and forth gently to the slow song that was playing among a crowd of teenagers doing the same thing. He wanted to pull her closer, have her rest her head on his shoulder, stroke her hair, kiss her, take in her scent. But high school prom rules were pretty similar to middle school dance rules, he knew, and if the chaperones displayed that sort of behavior, the kids might get the wrong idea.

Damn teenagers...

"This is _hell_, Jess," he repeated under his breath for her to hear. She pursed her lips and pulled him closer by an inch, careful to keep their bodies from touching. She looked up at him under her eyelashes, her blue eyes shining and making his heart beat faster. He glanced around to the teenagers dancing around them to make sure they weren't paying any attention to them and, once he was sure the coast was clear, he leaned down and kissed her, long and slow for a moment before breaking away.

"You're not allowed to kiss your date like that, Mr. Miller," Jess told him sternly, smiling slightly. Nick laughed despite himself.

"Oh yeah? Who's gonna stop me?" he challenged, leaning in for another kiss.

"I might," she told him, breaking away as the song ended.

"You can't resist _this_," he told her, reaching out to brush her hair out of her face. He leaned down to kiss her again, but laughed half-way through when the next song started to play. "'Cotton-Eye Joe'?" he asked, framing her face with the hand that hadn't started fist-pumping along with the beat. She laughed in response, nodding as they the teenagers around them groaned in frustration and disgust – those who recognized it, anyway. The ones who had never heard it before were confused, to say the least.

"I freaking love you, Jessica Day!" Nick said enthusiastically, spinning her in towards him with a smile. She laughed and leaned up to kiss him once more, not even caring that the teenagers around them had stopped dancing when they heard the song start and were watching the two "chaperones" with interest.

"All right, we've had our fun; we should get back to business now." she told him. He groaned as she tried to lead him off the dance floor, back to hell duty. He would be damned if he was going to spend another second standing there watching the punch that no one was trying to spike anyway. He spun her back in towards him again, trying to get her to change her mind. She just shook her head with a smile and untangled herself from him, taking his hand and leading him reluctantly off the dance floor.

"But, Jee-ess!" he whined and he couldn't believe that he was willing to _beg_ to stay out on the dance floor when he didn't even _like_ to dance. But if it meant getting out of his chaperone duties for just a little while longer, he was willing to do anything. "I can't go back and stand there by that stupid punch bowl for the rest of the night. I will _drown_ myself in that punch if it means getting out of this," he said, his eyebrows knitted together with his plea.

Jess just rolled her eyes at him and dragged him through the throng of students who were giggling at his plight, the song ended and one more suited to their needs started to play. They started dancing again, students coming from the edge of the room to rejoin their classmates to dance despite their single-status.

"You don't have to guard the punch anymore," she told him in consolation once they were away from the prying ears of the teenagers. "Just... watch them. Make sure nobody gets into a fight or kills anybody or has sex out on the dance floor, all right?" she asked his, straightening his jacket slightly. "I'm going to go to the bathroom to fix my make-up and make sure nobody's getting drunk in the ladies room – think you'll be okay without me for a few minutes?"

"No." he pouted, crossing his arms childishly. She smiled at him and walked out of the room anyway, heading for the bathroom with her clutch tightly in her hand. Where the hell had she been keeping it while they were dancing, he wondered as he watched her leave, in his back pocket or something?

_Damn_. Now he had to actually baby-sit these kids instead of the punch. Him and his big mouth...!

After five minutes of keeping his eyes on the crowd of teenagers doing whatever it was they were doing – they called what they were doing _dancing? _He was no expert, but unless they were learning those moves at a strip club, there was no way that was actually dancing! – he couldn't take it anymore. Checking around to make sure no one was watching him, he reached into his jacket pocket and extracted the flask he had stashed in there.

_Please let there be something in here, please let there be something in here, please let there be something in here_, he chanted to himself, unscrewing the cap and tilting in backwards, a sweet, godly liquid landing on his tongue and riding down the back of his throat.

_Yes_!

There was a God! _Now_, he could handle these kids and all their crap. _Now_, he would be able to handle this hell. Alcohol made absolutely _everything_ better!

He tipped it back once more and took another sip then recapped it and tucked it back into his jacket. It would probably be for the best not to drink it all at once. Just in case.

"You know, Mr. Miller, I should probably confiscate that," a voice purred from behind him that did _not_ belong to Jess. He froze and spun around, coming face-to-face with the principal from before that he didn't quite trust. Her face was contorted into something of a flirty face, but her eyes, too evil for her to be a nice principal by any means, told him she was not approaching him for any good reason. He straightened up, on his guard. If she thought he was handing over his beloved flask, she was dead wrong.

"I'm not a student, though," he told her, keeping his distance. He glanced towards the door, wondering where Jess was. She didn't have much to do, her make-up was near perfect anyway, so unless she ran into trouble, she should have been back by now. There was probably some problem in the girls room. Maybe someone was having boy problems or she was chatting with someone about dresses and make-up or _something_.

"Still, it's against the rules," she said, reaching forward to try to grab his flask from inside his jacket. He took a step back and bumped into a student on accident. He apologized out of the corner of his mouth, eyes still on the woman in front of him. He didn't even know this woman's name and here she was grabbing at him! She had some gall. To work with teenagers all day, though, he supposed you had to.

"You're not getting my flask, lady," he told her, crossing his arms over his chest.

"At least give me a drink then," she pouted, holding her manicured hand out towards him. He balked, almost let out a laugh at the situation. Nick was almost positive she was joking just to try to get him to hand over his flask, but... what if she wasn't? What if this educator genuinely wanted a drink to deal with the brats she had to deal with every day of the school year?

Oh, that would be _too_ perfect!

"Hey, guys. What's going on?" Jess sauntered up at last, placed a hand on Nick's shoulder as she smiled tightly at the woman in front of her.

"Nothing. I was just complimenting Mr. Miller on his fine work as a chaperone. You're both doing a great job here," she lied quickly, turning on her heels and pacing away.

"O... kay..." Jess said confusingly. She shook her head and looked sideways at Nick. "What the hell was that about?"

"Um... I think she wanted some of my liquor, but I'm not entirely sure..." he mused without thinking, still confused and wondering about what the hell had actually just happened. Jess smacked him on the chest and turned to him, anger evident in her eyes.

"She wanted some of your _what?" _She demanded, making Nick realize his slip up.

_Shit. _

He knew she'd be pissed if she found out about it, that was why he had been trying to _hide it_, but that damn principal...

"Uh... I mean... she was hitting on me?" he tried instead, too late. Jess ripped his jacket open and extracted the flask from the inside pocket he was hiding it in, and he let her. No sense in pissing her off even more. She shook it, shook her head, and then slipped it into her clutch before he could say another word on the matter.

"Honey – "

"Don't 'honey' me, Mister! You brought alcohol to a Prom! With teenagers at it! What if one of them had gotten hold of your flask?" she demanded.

"Then I would have shaken their hand. It's not easy to get that flask off me, you know," he teased, even though he probably shouldn't have. She shook her head at him and pursed her lips, then crossed arms over her chest, telling him she obviously upset, to say the least.

"I suppose there's no harm done..." she relented, uncrossing her arms as she looked into his brown, brown eyes. He smiled, knowing she couldn't stay mad at him for long – _especially_ when he was looking so dapper in his tux.

"So can I have my flask back?" he asked hopefully.

"Not a chance, Miller. Now go back by the punch." she told him with a shake of her hand, his punishment doled out. With a pout, he turned and walked back towards the unguarded punch. If anyone had wanted to spike the punch, they had had their opportunity by now, so he made a note not to drink any of it. God only knew what those kids could have gotten ahold of from their parents liquor cabinet or off the street. Kids were stupid, after all.

Standing against the wall near the punch bowl, Nick crossed his arms and frowned. He was banished back to punch-bowl duty, all because of that crazy principal that creeped him out. Plus, he didn't even have his flask anymore! What if he needed a drink? What if one of these kids tried to talk to him or that psycho bitch principal came back to bother him or –

In the middle of his mental, self-loathing rant, Nick let his eyes wander over to the punch-bowl yet again, just to check on whatever brats might be over there and the stupid things they might be doing. He was caught off guard then when his eyes fell on a young girl, seventeen or eighteen, in a bright red dress that was cut just below her knees. She had a matching corsage on her wrist, had her make-up done nicely, her hair curled and pinned back... And she was crying her eyes out.

Nick glanced around for the other chaperones he'd met earlier that night, for Jess, but they were all busy or out of sight.

Damnit all to _shit_!

With a sigh, he moved from his spot against the wall and approached her slowly, all the while muttering swear words under his breath; he could barely handle _Jess_ when she cried – and he'd been living with her, dating her, for a _long_ time now, – how the hell was he supposed to deal with a crying teenage girl that he didn't even know?

"Um, are you all right?" he asked tentatively once he was close enough for her to hear. She spun around to face him and quickly wiped at her eyes, clearly embarrassed that she'd been caught crying by someone – let alone a grown man acting as chaperone.

"Yes... Sorry, I just... tonight has been... I'm fine" she mumbled, wiping her face on the back of her hand.

"You don't seem all right," he said.

"I just..." she sighed and shook her head. Nick touched her shoulder gently, treading the line carefully. How was he supposed to comfort this young girl when he wasn't even sure what was appropriate and what was not?

"Prom sucks, huh?" he asked with a smile. The girl laughed and nodded.

"Yeah... You're not a teacher here, are you?" she asked, not recognizing him. He shook his head.

"Nope... I got roped into this by my girlfriend. She knows someone who works here and volunteered to help out. So I'm stuck here until this thing ends."

"Not having fun?" she teased, her red eyes matching her dress in a sad sort of way. Nick shook his head with a blithe chuckle.

"Not even a little bit. Well," he backtracked, remembering his dance with Jess. "Not anymore. The dancing wasn't too terrible," he admitted with a smile.

"Yeah, I saw you and that woman dancing to that terrible song before – was that your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, Jessica Day." he nodded. "What about you? You don't look like you're having much fun, either."

"I was... but then... my boyfriend..." she shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears again. A wave of panic washed through his body, if she started crying again, he didn't know what the hell he was gonna do...

"Guys are jerks, huh?" he asked rhetorically, throwing out the cliche he knew all women would agree with.

"You're telling _me_."

"What did he do?" If he had thrown up on her, Nick would have known, would have seen the stain on her dress, so, thankfully, that meant her date wasn't another Nick Miller, so that left very few options. Very few, very _bad_ options.

"Just... we've been dating for six months now, and he told me while we were out on the dance floor that if we don't go all the way tonight then he's breaking up with me," she sobbed. Nick nodded evenly, his blood boiling at the thought. He didn't even know this girls name, but he still wanted to knock out the SOB who'd said that. That just wasn't _right_. "And when I told him that I wasn't ready, he said that we were through. And then... a few minutes ago, I saw him making out in the hallway with one of my best friends!" she told him, wiping at her eyes once again.

Nick nodded, swallowing as he tried to think of the right words to say. If he'd still had his flask, he would have offered her a drink – under-age or not, if anyone deserved a drink at that moment it was _her_.

"You know what?" he told her, still keeping eye-contact. "_Screw him; screw her._ _He's_ gonna be one of those guys who winds up miserable and divorced five times in twenty years, _she's_ gonna be one of those girls who has kids and marries too young and is miserable for the rest of her life. But you – you're gonna do _so much better_! You're gonna find a guy who won't mind waiting for you, a guy who won't deserve you, but a guy you'll be happy with. You'll fall in love for real some day, and this little drama won't even matter. _High school_ doesn't even matter after graduation. So forget about him. There are plenty of other guys here tonight who would love to dance with you – go dance with them! Have fun! You only get one Prom; go make the best of it." he told her enthusiastically.

The girl looked at him, letting his words sink in for a few minutes before she nodded, wiping at her eyes and trying to calm down a bit more.

As she pulled out a mirror and cleaned the running make-up off her face with some wipes from her pocket-book, she talked with Nick a bit more, about guys being jerks, life after high school, love, things of the such. And then she snapped her mirror closed, slipped her make-up back into her clutch and gave Nick a bright smile, feeling much better after their little talk.

"Thank you so much, uh..." she faltered for his name, not quite sure what it was.

"Uh, Nick Miller. Call me Nick, though."

"Thank you so much, Nick. I'm Sandra, by the way. Sandra Willis."

"Right. Well, have a good night, Sandra. Enjoy your Prom. And remember what I said," he told her. She smiled at him and then bounced off towards the other side of the room where the guys who had come stag were congregating.

Looking back over her shoulder, Sandra called out, "I will! Thanks again, Nick!" And then she turned back around and continued back on with confidence.

Nick smiled at her, glad to have sorted the whole situation out without making her cry _more_. "Aw, that was so sweet!" Jess cooed in his ear, sneaking up on him again. He turned around and snaked an arm around her waist, stealing a kiss before she could object.

"I do what I can," he whispered against her skin.

"It was still sweet." she told him, letting silence fall over them for a minute and enjoying the closeness before she continued. "Hey, so I talked to Anna, you know, the principal, and she said that we could head out now if we wanted to. Prom ends in an hour, and they don't need as much help now." she told him, music to his ears! He had been waiting to hear that they could go all freaking night! But, now that he was into it, now that he'd helped that girl... he kind of didn't want to go...

"I think we should stay," he finally admitted.

"Really?" she asked in surprise, eyes wide.

"Yeah. I mean, it's almost over right? Might as well stick it out until the end." Jess laughed at his transparent reasoning, knowing his real reason for wanting to stay was that he wanted to keep an eye on Sandra for a bit. She shook her head and fished his flask back out of her clutch.

"You're _earned_ your liquor, Nick Miller," she told him, handing it over. He smiled his thanks, slipped it back into his jacket pocket and gave her a kiss. She sauntered off then, telling him she would meet him at the door after it was all over. He nodded and took up his position at his wall once again, remaining there for the remainder of the night.

No one else made the punch-bowl their break-down station, so that was good; he wasn't sure how many crying girls he'd be able to console before someone accused him of having not-so-innocent intentions. He did keep an eye on Sandra, however, and watched her glide across the floor with at least three different guys before he decided she was fine now and that he didn't need to keep such a tight eye on her. His eyes found Jess a few times instead, saw her talking with students, other chaperones, flitting about like it was her own prom night!

He caught eyes with that Anna chick once or twice and quickly looked away. She just... freaked him out. He felt so sorry for those students that had to deal with her all day every day and hoped she didn't act with them the same way that she had with him. For their sake, he hoped she was more professional.

Nick's suspicions about the punch being spiked while he was out dancing with Jess were confirmed when some idiot threw up all over the middle of the dance floor, leading Anna to end the night about twenty minutes early just after the Prom King and Queen were announced, much to the dismay of everyone attending.

Still, they obediently began to file out in groups, still giggling and hanging off their dates, some half-drunk, some barely walking.

With the night finally over, Nick made his way across the room to wait at the door for Jess to show up. Sandra passed him on her way out, hooked to the arm of some boy he was going to assume _wasn't_ her asshole ex-boyfriend. She smiled at him and mouthed a thank you, he waved and smiled back then leaned against the wall, waiting patiently for Jess.

Thankfully, it wasn't a long wait before Jess finally sauntered up to him. "Ready to leave _now?" _She asked playfully, linking her arm through his. He nodded with a smile and escorted her out and back to his car, avoiding Anna thanks in part to the vomit decorating the ballroom floor. Thank God for idiot teenagers!

The drive home was mostly filled with Jess telling Nick stories about what had happened while he was baby-sitting the punch. She told him about the mess of a girl she'd found in the bathroom, the couple making out in one of the stalls – if that was what they were doing in the _ladies room_, she had told him, then she didn't even want to _know_ what was happening in the _mens room! _– the boys who were going to play a prank on the Prom Queen whose royal title, as far as they were concerned, should only have been _The Royal Bitch_, and a bunch of other things he hadn't even known was going on due to being grounded for most of the night!

She didn't even chew him out for letting the punch get spiked, that was how good of a mood she was in after the whole thing.

He suspected it had less to do with the great job they – mostly _she –_ had done that night and more to do with her finally having sex on Prom night. But that wasn't his place to judge.

When they got back to the loft, he escorted her to her door like a good date.

And then when she pulled him in for a kiss, tugged him into her room and closed the door shut behind him, he started to think that maybe Prom night wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

**Fin.**

* * *

**So, keeping in mind that I myself never attended Prom, how did I do? Like, I have only ever been to one school dance in all of my existence and I hated it with most of the fibers of my being, so I hope I did okay. **

**It was a middle school dance, BTDub. My end of the year eighth grade dance. **

**And I _hated_ it. **

**They played crappy music, there was drama with some of my best friends at the time because this one girl's boyfriend was dancing with everyone _but_ her and he was kind of hitting on me through-out most of the night and making the whole thing _really_ uncomfortable, I drank too much water and not enough pop so I didn't even have a sugar rush to get me through it, I wound up sitting and watching everyone's heels while they danced to music that I hated, teachers that I hated kept trying to make conversation with me, I didn't bring a book with me to keep myself occupied, I couldn't hear my iPod over the stupid DJ, and just... Yeah. Maybe I had a crappy attitude about the whole thing, but I mean, I was fourteen and just coming out of my emo phase. The only parts of the night I enjoyed were hanging out at my friend's house before and after the dance where we got to be stupid teenagers who drank too much pop and ate too much pizza and sugar and listened to music that we actually enjoyed without adult supervision and all that jazz.**

**Anyway, considering _all that_, how did I do on a story about Prom?**

**Do people actually spike punch at Prom or is that just something they do in movies? I've always imagined it was real – _teenagers_, after all, you know – but I could be wrong. Do they actually even serve punch at Prom? Or are they wise to that little trick these days? Were they ever _not_ wise to that trick?**

**And that whole Anna and Sandra stuff... I don't know, I just felt like Nick just needed to _earn_ his alcohol, you know? And he did, so, yeah...**

**MayaLala is so awesome for doing this, BTDub. Like, seriously awesome. So guys, go check out every single New Girl fic that's been posted today and has the word "Prom" in the title. Support these people so we can do something like this again someday. Seriously, how awesome would it be to just have stuff like this all the time during this hiatus? I could get down with that...**

_Always,  
Hisa-Ai._


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